


Broken Legs and Jello

by bluestbluetoeverblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, Self Harm Scars, This is actually a nice story I promise, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestbluetoeverblue/pseuds/bluestbluetoeverblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean gets appendicitis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Legs and Jello

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by a post from castielismycopilot on Tumblr.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: (self harm, depression, mental illness, suicide) There is no description of the self harm, but there is talk of it and description of scars, as well as a vague suicide attempt scene and other possibly triggering lines.

A steady humming sound reached Dean’s ears, combining with the lack of sedatives to rouse him awake. His eyes were still closed, but he was aware of warmth and a general numbness. And pain. Shit, he hurt everywhere. And there was a deep, raspy voice coming from…somewhere. 

“Please stop sending male prostitutes to my hospital room. I’m not physically healthy enough to have sex, not to mention it’s unsanitary for them to be here.” 

The voice wasn’t making any sense, but Dean was more concerned with the pain radiating from his arm, leg, and chest. He gathered his strength and wrenched open his eyelids for a few seconds only to have his retinas completely burned by the searing light that resulted. He breathed and tried again, this time managing to keep his eyes open. 

Cinderblock. Crappy painting. Crappy blanket. Leg suspended in the air above his bed.That was about all Dean could see without gaining the energy to shift his neck. It was a difficult task, but he was eventually facing the other side of the room and the voice. The twenty-something year old guy was also in a hospital bed, holding a corded phone receiver up to his ear and looking out the only window that happened to be on his side of the room. Dean noticed the white clip on the guy’s index finger, identical to the one on his own, and the way his brows were pulled together to create a series of worry lines over his shockingly blue eyes. 

“Gabriel, please don-” the guy continued in a flustered voice, not noticing Dean. Dean listened to the guy listen to the person on the other end of the phone with a pained expression before finally saying, “Fine. Thank you. Yes. See you then.” and hanging up. Dean was unable to close his eyes before the guy turned and saw him staring. 

“Oh, hi. You’re awake.” Dean started to say something, but his desert-like throat closed and his stomach lurched as he began coughing furiously. The guy pointed to a paper cup sitting on Dean’s nightstand. “Drink that. I’ll call a nurse.” Dean barely was able to lift and move his arm enough to grab the small portion of water and allow it to wet his dry mouth and throat. At least the table hadn’t been on the left side--Dean just noticed that his other arm was in a cast. A young woman in scrubs with cropped blonde hair came in and began checking Dean’s vitals. She asked Dean what he remembered. Dean recounted being at work, going out for the drive, and then…

“Appendicitis,” the nurse said. “Very painful and not too helpful for someone driving a motorcycle. You’re lucky you got away with so few injuries. They removed your appendix successfully, and after some observation and recovery time you should be just fine.” Dean nodded. With a glance at the other bed, she left.

“Appendicitis,” Dean’s roommate scrunched his nose. “Never had the pleasure, but I’ve heard it’s like torture.”

“Yeah. It hurt like hell.” Dean glanced sideways at the man, who appeared perfectly healthy despite holding residency in a hospital bed. “What are you in for?” The man shrugged.

“I’ve got a bad pancreas. I’m Castiel, by the way.”

“Dean.” Castiel reached across the aisle between their beds, wincing as he shifted his weight, and offered a hand, which Dean shook. Another nurse with dark curls and a round face came in wearing blue scrubs. 

“Good morning, Meg,” Castiel said in an obnoxiously cheerful voice. “Time for my labs already?”

“Seems like it,” the grumpy nurse huffed, to which Castiel only smiled wider. Dean chuckled softly at his attempts to irritate the woman as he rested into the stiff hospital mattress, exhausted from being awake.

 

***

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Dean couldn’t believe some of the stories this Castiel guy told.

“Nope. I swear.” The man was about to continue but never got the chance due to an unexpected visitor. He came into the hospital room out of breath and with tired eyes as well as day old clothes and unwashed hair. 

“Dean!” Dean was cut off mid laugh at the sight of his little brother. 

“Sam? What are you doing here?” Castiel was suddenly forgotten as he looked between the two concerned expressions. “Why aren’t you in California?”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam Winchester stepped further into the room, walking up to his brother’s hospital bed, where Dean was propped up with two limbs in casts. “You’re in the hospital, didn’t think it was important enough to call me, and I’m the one being questioned?”

“Sammy-”

“Don’t Sammy me, Dean. Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“You were in a freaking car crash!”

“It was a motorcycle accident, and I crashed into a tree, big deal.”

“Big deal, Dean? You could have been killed! After everything, how am I supposed to know…?” Sam trailed off, but his anger melted into just concern as he realized that there was a stranger in the room. “Hi. Sorry.”

“Uh, it’s no problem,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry. I’d leave but,” he gestured to his abdomen, “pancreas.” Sam’s brow furrowed, and Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Castiel,” he stuck out his right hand, and Sam stepped over to shake it. 

“Sam Winchester. Dean’s brother.”

“Who should be at law school,” Dean added, earning a glare from Sam. “How’d you even hear I was in the hospital?” 

“How do you think?” Sam looked at his brother like he was an idiot for about the fiftieth time in the past three minutes, which Dean found quite infuriating and Castiel found quite entertaining.

“Bobby.” Dean shook his head, muttering a curse under his breath.

Sam slumped his shoulders and made a strange face. “You’re gonna have to come home, Sam. That idgit brother of yours got in a crash on the job and he’s in the hospital, and I doubt he’s gonna call you himself.” Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the near perfect impression Sam did of the old man. Castiel had no idea who they were talking about, but it was funny nonetheless, so he joined in on the laughter.

 

***

 

“I’m leaving the hospital now, and there’s a flight in an hour, so I should be back before tomorrow night....I wanted to stay but Dean’s insisting that I don’t need to….I know but I think he’s alright….okay, I’ll see you soon….love you, Jess.” 

Sam hung up the phone and stopped to grab a protein bar at the hospital vending machine before he started on his way to the airport. It made his stomach turn to leave Dean in the hospital alone, especially after the past couple years, but Dean was right. He really couldn’t miss finals, and it was that simple. He’d come back as soon as all the tests were over and make sure his brother was okay. At least for now, Dean seemed fine and had a nice roommate. Castiel made Dean laugh a lot, which was no easy feat. Getting into the backseat of a cab, Sam smiled to himself. Jess was going to love this. 

 

***

 

Dean never really expected being in the hospital to be so boring. There was a TV, but it cut out constantly, and Dr. Sexy was only on once a day. So despite Dean’s success in hooking Castiel on the medical drama, they were unable to occupy their time with it often. Both men were also confined to their beds for the majority of the time in the beginning. While Castiel didn’t mind so much because he was used to being in and out of the hospital due to his colorful array of health problems, Dean was going stir crazy. Lying on the couch all day was one thing, but being trapped in the same bed in the same room staring at the same walls for all hours was miserable. His stroke of luck was that Castiel happened to be talkative.

Cas’ raspy voice calmed Dean’s constant need to get out of bed as they talked about everything. They debated what type of hair products Dr. Sexy used, Dean told Castiel all about engines, Castiel rattled off on his favorite pieces of philosophy. They never stopped talking, and it gave Dean the perfect excuse to keep seeing blue for a little while longer each day. 

Cas asked about Sam, a topic Dean was happy to brag about. Dean for once didn’t even hesitate when he talked about the fire or his parents. He mentioned the garage of course, and Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Ash, his surrogate family. Cas in turn told Dean that his parents were extremely religious and he’d left home when he was pretty young. He had five siblings--three of whom would still speak to him--and lived with two, Anna and Gabriel. He talked about them both in detail along with the third, Balthazar. He even explained that the conversation Dean had first heard Cas having on the phone concerning male prostitutes had been with Gabriel, who had a certain lovable yet vulgar quality about him. During lunch one day Dean was complaining about the hospital food, saying that the only thing he’d been served worth eating in days was the chocolate pudding, which they of course had to be out of. He glared at the cup of red jello wobbling in place on his tray, and Cas laughed.

“In that case, why don’t you let me get rid of that jello for you?” 

Castiel held his hand out across the aisle between their beds, flashing a charming smile. Dean shook his head and reached out to drop the plastic cup in Cas’ hand, catching sight of his friend’s uncovered arm. From his wrist to about three inches up his arm, Castiel’s tanned skin was covered in a pattern of short and long horizontal scars that seemed to fade slowly into his skin tone. Dean stared at the scars for just a moment too long for him to be able to pretend he hadn't seen them. Cas’ eyes searched Dean’s face, glanced down at his own arm, and he nodded. 

Dean didn’t know what to say. Castiel looked at him again, and their eyes met. He gave Dean a sort of half smile that seemed to say don’t worry. Dean couldn’t find a word.

“I had some self harm issues a few years back.” Cas said in that gruff voice of his before scooping out a bite of blood-red jello and putting it into his mouth as if he were mentioning the weather. 

“I’m sorry…” Dean didn’t know where that sentence was going. Cas shrugged.

“I’m better now, and that’s what’s important.” They looked at each other for a moment, Cas still chewing his jello. A look of soft concern appeared on his face. “You can ask me about it, if you want. Or we can ignore them if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Say something. Be comforting. The guy doesn’t seem to need much comforting, though. Say something wise about the past. You don’t know anything wise about the past. Jesus, fine, just ask him a damn question or something. 

“Can I ask why?” Dean asked unsurely. Cas nodded, thinking for a moment.

“I told you my parents were pretty religious. I knew I was gay for almost as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t really living in a house of conservative bible-thumpers that kickstarted the depression. I was happy when I decided to come out of the closet, and even when they kicked me out for it. It was afterwards when almost all of the rest of my family cut contact that I went to a sort of dark place. I lived with my brother who is an alcoholic--recovering now--and so it was just the two of us in a state of mind about as great as our shitty apartment. 

“What really made me start cutting were these gnawing thoughts. I’m never gonna be loved. Even my own family doesn’t love me. I can’t succeed in life. And a lot of other cruel stuff.”

“How did you survive?”

“An angel. My sister, Anna. She came over one day and realized how terrible we were, so she dragged Gabe to AA and me to a therapist. It’s not like it was an easy overnight success after that; recovery sucked, but we’re all better off for it. I haven’t cut in four years.”

“Congratulations.” Cas smiled.

“Thanks. Everyone has their tragic backstory. Some have horrific fires, some have self harm, but the actual story is what comes after.”

The conversation continued and moved to other topics, but Dean couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to Castiel’s story and his arm. He remembered flashes of that night only a couple short years ago. The stocked fireplace filling the room with warmth, homage paid to his earliest memory. The cheap motel bedspread that smelt of things he didn’t care to try and name. He had burned the note long ago, but the words were still seared into his memory, a song he couldn’t get out of his head. Then that night in a hospital bed not all to different from his current one. Sam and Jess sitting beside him, Bobby and Ellen sitting along the wall, holding hands. Jo, Ash, Rufus, and Bella were down the hall in the waiting room, but he wouldn’t see them for a few hours. He was hit by that first light after opening his eyes, then the realization, then the shame. He and Sam cried together that day, gripping each other’s hands, and he could hardly bear remembering it.

 

***

Dean woke up to see Meg and a few doctors walking out of their room and turned to see Castiel sitting up in his bed, opening a book. He closed it after seeing that Dean was awake.

“Morning,” Cas said with a smile as Dean carefully sat up in his bed.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked.

“I’m...getting released tomorrow.” Cas studied Dean’s face.

“Really? That’s great.” 

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll probably be back in a year for some other issue, but at least now I can sleep in a real bed.”

“I’m jealous.” 

They both smiled and began their daily routine involving shitty hospital food, Cas beating Dean at countless games of Sorry and checkers, and each of them taking phone calls from concerned and slightly irritating siblings. 

That night, after they were told by multiple nurses that it was lights out, Dean laid in the dark, listening to the sounds of Cas breathing.  
“Dean?” Came a raspy whisper.

“Yeah?”

“We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, at least I thought so.”

“Me too. I like talking to you. I almost wish I wasn’t leaving tomorrow.” 

Dean didn’t say anything for a moment.

“You’re going home. You should be happy.”

“I am,” Castiel said. “It’s just…”

“I’ll be glad when they let me get the hell out of this place. I’m tired of sitting around all day doing nothing, and I’m ready to eat real food. I miss my garage and my friends and my clothes. Just be glad you get to go soon.”

Cas was silent. Dean wondered at first if he’d fallen asleep.

“I am.” 

They didn’t talk after that. After a while, Dean heard Castiel’s breathing slow and soft snores began to come from the other side of the room. He sighed and continued staring at the ceiling. His hand travelled absently to his lean thigh, and his fingers began to graze the scars that blemished his skin there. They were fresher than the ones he’d seen on Cas’ arms, but it had been almost a year and a half since one was added. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, pushed all thoughts of Cas out of his head, and eventually fell into a restless sleep.

***

Gabriel Novak was everything Dean had expected him to be. Loud, obnoxious, inappropriate, and childish. Cas was right though, there was something lovable about the guy. He sat in a chair near the foot of Dean’s bed, swinging his legs and letting out sighs of mock impatience as Castiel filled a small duffle bag with his things. 

Dean had never seen Cas in real clothes, and the jeans and loosely tucked black button up shirt did him much more justice than any hospital gown ever could. And his raven hair was as ruffled and out of place as ever. And his eyes shone blue like always. He turned, handing the bag to Gabe, and glanced at Dean with a sad expression before turning back to his brother.

“Finally ready, little bro?” Gabriel asked, and Cas nodded. “Thanks for keeping Cassy here company, Dean. Look me up if you ever wanna party.” 

Castiel shook his head and pushed his brother out the door. 

“Cas,” Dean said, and he stopped in the doorway to look back at him, blue eyes questioning and expectant. “Uh, see you around.”

Cas’ expression deflated and he nodded. 

“Good bye, Dean.”

***

Dean was being pushed out the hospital doors, complaining about how he had to be on crutches anyway and what was the point in making him leave in a wheelchair and hospitals really sucked, when you thought about it, I mean have you ever eaten hospital food? The stuff could kill you before you even have a chance to be diagnosed. Sam sighed and pushed his brother out into the parking lot.

“Well, now you’re going home, so let’s just try not to be in any more hospitals anytime soon.” 

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“Sam, you know I’m fine, right? You didn’t need to fly out just for this, but I do appreciate it.”

“What is this, Dean Winchester expressing gratitude without sarcasm? Where’s a video camera when you need one?” 

“Oh shut up, bitch.” 

Sam grinned. 

“Jerk.”

The Impala was waiting in the parking lot, and frankly, it was one of the most beautiful and refreshing things Dean could think of. If only he were allowed to drive it. He’d figured Sam would probably bring it, he’d gotten the sense that his brother had noticed how down he was the past week. The part he wasn’t expecting, though, was the dark haired, blue eyed guy leaning against the car. 

“Hi Dean.” 

Castiel grinned at the surprise on Dean’s face, and Dean couldn’t help but grin back. He suddenly didn’t mind not being able to drive, or being wheeled around by his baby brother, or even the fact that he was starving. Everything seemed pretty damn beautiful in that moment when he was staring at Cas, and nothing hurt. Well, except for his broken leg.


End file.
